to witness the remains of love exhumed
by gidget89
Summary: She spends her life counting down.


_**to witness the remains of love exhumed**_

She spends her life counting down.

She doesn't remember when she starts – maybe at some infinitely large number only she, and perhaps the Doctor, could comprehend. Maybe each new life, each new face, each regeneration is a restart. Resets the counter, but she never resets it such a way that she doesn't count down. She doesn't think it's possible, really.

It starts as a countdown of days to escape. And then a countdown of days to death. She counts and counts and counts until she is heartily sick of numbers.

And then there is the Doctor. And the count is set so high it seems unending but nothing lasts forever and she feels like every number removed is an added weight on her hearts. She was raised to hate him and loves him so much _more _because of it.

The first time she meets her parents though – she knows the count is so much smaller with them. She can see the time; see things that only a Timelord can. And their stream is so painfully stretched thin and intersects with hers so little.

She sighs, and the TARDIS seems to sigh with her, a soft buzz of sympathy under her bare feet as she swings under the console. She likes it here, for the same reason the Doctor does. She can feel the energy wrapped around the TARDIS' heart and it is so thick and tangled with her own time stream that they are almost indistinguishable. The TARDIS really does feel like forever in a way that even her and the Doctor's time streams do not.

She has a pad of paper in her lap and a pencil held loosely in her hand, and she is mapping the isometry of their latest jump in long hand. It's not necessary, and is something she can do in her head easily, but it is calming. Numbers that can be added up instead of subtracted away. She senses him enter the room long before she hears him, because the TARDIS' heart glows much warmer when he is near.

"River?" He pops his head over the railing, upside down, before seeing her and flipping himself back up. She smiles, because his hair looks ridiculous when it defies gravity and she finds herself idly wondering if there's an anti-grav room anywhere on board. He clambers down the stairs like an over-active child – as loudly as possible – and her smile is in full bloom despite the melancholy of her thoughts when he reaches the bottom. "What're you doing down here?"

She holds up the paper and pencil and shrugs, causing the swing set to sway left to right slightly. "Just clearing my head." He lifts the pad from her lap and looks down at it his mouth twisting into a small grin as he climbs to the side of the swing seat and settles down on the floor next to it. His legs stick out at awkward angles and he looks up at her with an expression that could not be labelled as anything but adorable.

"_This_ is what you do to clear your head?" He waves the pad under her nose and she nods with a smile. His gaze is intense and she can read everything within it – awe, kinship, a smouldering love and a spark of lust and she _knows_ it all as if he's said each of those things out loud.

"I like the numbers." She says simply instead, her shoulders lifting and he drops the pad next to him and reaches forward, giving the side of the swing a gentle push and she sways a little more.

"Yes, but why _here_?" He presses, and she inwardly curses his astuteness. She shouldn't be surprised by it – not anymore, but she had been hoping just this once he was too early in his own time stream to tell. He was _young_, but she secretly doubted he'd ever be young enough that he couldn't see right through her.

"I like it here." She answers him and he looks up at her, his gaze sharp as he searches her face for minute details only he could possibly distinguish.

"Me too." He reaches to his right and places a palm on the copper casing over the TARDIS' heart and the ship shivers around them. "Everything is a little bit more endless here, with her." He observes casually, but his eyes are locked on her and she knows that he _knows_. "Is that why you like it?"

She swallows before nodding as she stands from the swing and moves carefully around the ventilation shafts to sit on his right, close to the heart of the ship. She reaches forward too; her hand next to his, flat against the surface of the copper shell and the ship's hum becomes deeper, more content.

"She loves you, you know." His voice is a whisper in her ear, and she turns to him, meeting his gaze evenly.

"I know. I love her too." She whispers as well and he smiles suddenly, shifting his hand to cover hers, their fingers tangling together over the heart. He shifts closer, his other arm wrapping around her waist and tugging until she lands in his lap with a muffled laugh.

"I know that. But I mean – she loves you like she loves me. Forever. And it's been a long, long time since she's loved anyone like that, other than me."He glances over to their hands and back again with a smile. "Strays she calls them. But not you." She stares at him for a moment, her other hand reaching up to cradle the side of his face.

"Do you know why I like it here?" Her words are barely more than an exhale but he tilts his head, listening intently to her. "I see time; did you know that, my love?" He glances up at her in shock and she knows that no, he actually didn't know that.

"Like I do?" His whispered words tickle across the skin of her cheek and she nods. "What do you see?"

"What do _you_ see?" She answers his question with her own and he sighs, pressing his face closer into her hand.

"It depends on what I'm looking at. Sometimes I see everything – complex and tangled. Sometimes I think those knots can be worked out, and sometimes they can't." He pauses for a moment, glancing back at their hands, still entwined. "I look at her and I see forever. Can barely see the her from the me. I look at friends and I see how little – such a short time, really. Has to be that way. I can't stay forever." She nods and he looks back at her, swallowing heavily. "I look at you and I see... so much longer than I expected. It's muddled at points – so many choices and possibilities – it feels endless. But it's not, is it?" She feels her eyes water and a tingle over the bridge of her nose as she shakes her head.

"I see numbers." She answers his earlier question instead, her voice soft. "Count downs – I meet everyone backwards. Well, backward-_ish_." She amends and he smiles slightly. "But I see how long we have until..."

"Until what?" He asks like he knows the answer, but she doesn't think he does. "Until they're gone?"

"Sort of. I stop counting before then, sweetie. Until they don't _know_ me. Until they don't love me anymore. Everyone stops loving me eventually." She looks at their hands then, and smiles. "Everyone but _her_." When she looks back at him his expression is infinitely sad and she smoothes her hand over his cheek, reaching up to ruffle his hair a bit. "It's alright, my love. I know."

"It shouldn't be like that." His hand tightens over hers and he leans in, pressing his forehead against hers. "I wish it wasn't."

"I don't." She whispers fiercely, detangling her hand from his so she can reach up; taking his face in both her hands and forcing him to look at her as she speaks. "I _don't_. When I reach my end, you'll be just beginning. And when you reach your end, _I'll _be just beginning. Don't you see Doctor? You and I – we're forever. We are. And I truly believe that we will do it – the same way, the same choices – _every_ time."

His hands reach for her waist, gripping there and pulling her closer to him, until his mouth covers her own. His hands slide awkwardly up over her ribs and around to her back and she can tell that he is far newer to this than he'd been last time, but she loves his enthusiasm and how he tastes her like he cannot get enough. His tongue tangles against hers, hesitant but eager and she hums in the back of her throat as her hands slide into his hair.

He kisses her repeatedly, moving to scatter tiny kisses across her jaw and neck, her cheek and brow but always, always returning to her mouth like he cannot stray for very long from the taste of her. He licks the shell of her ear and she shivers in his hands when he breathes the words she's been waiting for. "Stay with me." He pulls back to look at her with heavy-lidded eyes that are almost burning gold at the moment and she trembles in his grip. "For a while. Stay with me for a while. Don't go back. _Stay_." He is unwilling to let her countdown slip by so easily and she smiles tremulously.

"It's always been your choice, sweetie. I've not been able to say no to you yet, and I doubt I ever will." He presses a swift kiss to her mouth and then another before he lays her back and stretches out beside her, his hands sliding down her body as she grows restless beneath them.

"How long?" He mumbles against her lips and she shakes her head.

"Don't – don't count. As long as we like." She looks to her right to the heart of the TARDIS. "We've got a time machine, my love." His lips slide against her jaw and he kisses down her throat before he pulls back to look down at her. The warm glow of the TARDIS fights with the blue of the lights that run above them, chasing shadows across his face and she smiles. He grins too, looking down at her in awe as one of his hands reaches up to wind her curls around his fingers.

"All the time in the world."


End file.
